


my heart is gold (my hands are cold)

by waywardwriter



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern Royalty, Violence, assassin!laurent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-17 17:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16520702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardwriter/pseuds/waywardwriter
Summary: There was nothing more tedious than rescuing the man you intended to kill.





	my heart is gold (my hands are cold)

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something _very_ different from my usual fluff! 
> 
> Warning for a small torture scene in the beginning, nothing too graphic, but just be aware if you're uncomfortable with that.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Ever since Laurent escaped from Arles, he worked with steadfast determination to accomplish two tasks: kill his uncle and kill Damianos. Both had taken something from Laurent, and Laurent spent every waking moment dreaming of vengeance.

Vengeance, however, took time. It took research, planning, and preparation. It took caution and patience. Luckily, Laurent excelled in all those things.

Or so he thought.

“Are you ready to talk,” one of the assailants asked, twirling the knife he just used to carve shallow cuts into Laurent’s skin. “Or do you still want to play your games?”

Laurent said nothing. Instead, he focused on analyzing his injuries to assess how much they would impair him. The bleeding on his chest was minimal. His ribs were more likely bruised than broken. The most debilitating was his sprained ankle, but it wouldn’t slow Laurent down too much. His body was stiff and aching, the cause being the ropes securing him to a chair in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse.

How typical.

His captors were very thorough; the ropes on his wrists, ankles, waist and chest were securely knotted to the chair and ensured that he could not escape. The lingering effects of the chloroform gave him a slight headache, a pounding pulse reverberating in his skull.

“I think he made up his mind,” said the female on Laurent’s right hand side. “But all the better for me. I love playing,” she continued, approaching Laurent with a smirk. She withdrew metal pliers. “Pin down his arm.”

The man followed her command, pressing down on Laurent’s already restrained forearms. Precautionary measures, in case he struggled to get free. The woman knelt down until she was directly in front of his right hand. Taking the pliers, she opened them and pinched the metal between the nail of his index finger. Laurent refused to look down, preferring to focus straight ahead at the blank wall.

Laurent’s feet were bound but they could touch the floor. If Laurent pushed off the ground and threw himself back, he could catch the man off guard. It wouldn’t be enough to take him out, but Laurent wondered if the surprise might cause him to drop a knife. And if it were close enough Laurent could -

A sharp pain cut through Laurent’s thoughts.

“We can do this quickly,” the woman pried the nail off his finger in a quick jerk before using the pliers to grasp another. “Or we can do it slowly.” She twisted the nail on his middle finger and gently tugged, not removing the nail completely, but enough to cause a burning sensation. Laurent could feel her glare as he continued to look elsewhere, feigning indifference. “Or I could stop right now. All you need to do is tell us what you know. Who’s the mole?”

It hurt. But as the pain faded, it morphed into annoyance like a fly pestering him. Besides, Laurent had experienced worse. “Tell my uncle that I’m unimpressed at your poor attempts of torture. You’d think he would send the best after me.”  
  
That earned Laurent a slap to the face.

The woman was about to grip another nail, motions jerky and furious, before the man snatched the pliers away.

“This won’t break him,” he snapped. He reached into his pocket to reveal a lighter and a handful of metal nails. “We’re wasting time. Perhaps we ought to introduce some more…drastic measures.”

Just as the man flicked on the flame, the door blew open, sending shards of wood flying and clouds of condense dust billowing around the room. The woman used her arm to shield her eyes as she blindly grabbed the gun situated on her hip. But as she raised her weapon to fire, a round of bullets flew across the room. She collapsed. Another round of fire and the man fell in front of Laurent’s feet.

There was a silhouette in front of the door. Laurent watched as the newcomer cocked the gun, changing the chamber, before striding inside. He didn’t even bother to look around before entering, an act that suggested brash confidence. “Are you Laurent of Vere?”

The man had clipped short hair in the military style. The dark complexion was characteristically Akielon. The fact that he knew of Laurent’s existence meant trouble; no one should know about him. Laurent swallowed the panic and wariness with practiced ease.

Before Laurent could speak, the barrel was shoved in front of him. “Well?” the man said. “Time’s ticking.”

 _If he wanted to kill you, he would have already._ “Yes,” Laurent answered.

The man squinted, but seemed to believe him. He lowered the gun. “It was fucking hell to find you, you know?”

“That’s what happens when you’ve been dead for fifteen years.” At least, that’s what the public believed. Though, Laurent supposed, the stories were somewhat true. The old Laurent died a long time ago. He wasn’t sure if Auguste would even recognize him now.

“Pretty sure the Regent has the wrong definition of dead.”

A pause. “What do you know about the Regent?” Every time Laurent said his name, it felt like poison coating his tongue.

“A lot of things,” the man said. “I came here to give you an offer.”

“And that requires me to stay tied up?”

“Only if you decline.” The man bent down and unsheathed the knife on the floor anyways. He went around the chair and slashed through the ropes with practiced efficiency. When Laurent’s wrists were unbound, the man dropped the knife on Laurent’s lap to do the rest.

Laurent worked to free himself, mind reeling. “And what makes you so confident I won’t?”

“I have the proof that your uncle was complicit in the attack on Arles that left your older brother in a coma. The evidence is enough justification to overthrow the Regent’s reign.”

Laurent paused and narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

“Call me Nikandros,” he said. “I was in communications with a young man you are well acquainted with. He delivered my messages to you when you were still in Arles. Does the name Nicaise ring a bell?”

 _Nicaise._ The servant boy who delivered Laurent’s meals. Was he the one who helped Laurent realize the truth of his uncle’s wicked nature?

“What – ” Laurent clenched his fists and took a breath to calm himself. “Is he alive?”

“I don’t know,” said Nikandros, face grim. “I lost contact when you went rogue.”

When Arles, the capital of Vere, was attacked fifteen years ago, Laurent was put into hiding. _Under Auguste’s orders_ , they told him. _He wants to keep you safe._ Like the gullible five-year-old Laurent was, he believed them.

He believed his uncle when he said Akielos killed Auguste, breaking the thirty year long peace treaty. He believed his uncle when he said Auguste’s last words were for Laurent to avenge him. He believed his uncle when he put a knife and gun in his hands and said that this was the only way to do it.

Laurent became a tool, his uncle’s obedient and personal weapon. His most prized possession.

That was until Laurent received a crumpled note under his pillow on his nineteenth birthday that changed everything.

“I didn’t ask for your name,” Laurent said, refusing to think anymore of the past. He went over to his assailant’s bags to retrieve his weaponry. “I asked _who_ you are. You are Akielon.”

“Yes,” said Nikandros. “I used to work for the Akielon government, which is how I discovered you weren’t six feet under. I’m part of an underground organization planning to take back control of Akielos from its current ruler.”

Nikandros had to be speaking of Kastor. He was the man who took over Akielos when Damianos was exiled. He was charged for treason and fled for breaking the peace between the two countries. Laurent didn’t care about Akielos. All he wanted was his uncle and Damianos’ lives.

Fully armed, he stood up and faced Nikandros.“Why should I work with you?”

“You know Vere like the back of your hand. You know tactics and strategies that Akielos does not. We can use this information to get an advantage over Akielos. Frankly, we need everyone we can get on our team to take Kastor down. We give you what you want, you give us what we want.”

Laurent had been searching for evidence ever since he had escaped. The Regent was smart to declare that Laurent had died during the attack because no one would believe him if he revealed his identity to the public.

Laurent was powerless. He had no leverage.

This was the perfect opportunity. The only – and largest drawback – was working with the enemy. One of them, anyway.

“You will provide me with all the information I seek before we begin and allow me to work independently from any third parties you’re affiliated with. I refuse to be tossed around like a toy. If you seek my assistance, I run the operations as well. That is my condition.”

“You will _co-run_ the operations with another individual of my choosing.” Nikandros said and rubbed his temples. “Look, this isn’t the place to begin negotiations. We can do all the fine print at my safe house, if, and only if, you do me a favour.”

Laurent picked up a knife and wiped the blood on the cloth of his forearm. “What must I do?”

“For starters, I need you to get someone for me.”

 

* * *

 

Laurent followed the flow of civilians on the busy streets of Delpha’s business district, taking in the metropolitan city. It was early afternoon and the general populace were in a rush, shoving and swearing at people in their way. Men and women alike wore business attire, cars littered the roads, and the overwhelming smell of car exhaust and garbage filled the hot humid air. The tall overbearing skyscrapers loomed over Laurent as he made his way to his destination.

He resisted the urge to pull at the tie around his neck. If Laurent learned one thing about clothing, it was that suits were extremely uncomfortable, if not impractical. The tight-fitting button down and heavy blazer restricted his range of motion. There weren’t enough pockets to hide his weapons. The stiff brown shoes were bulky and made noises with every step.

Back in Arles, hidden away from the public eye, Laurent spent the majority of his time in loose exercise clothing. When he was training, he wore his black suit, specially made with breathable and flexible material. He had the ability to merge in and out of the shadows and kill in a split-second. Laurent could still do so _now_ ; clothing, of all things, was not a handicap. It was enough to mildly annoy him and nothing more. 

After about twenty minutes of traveling, the bronze Courts & Crowns Inc. logo came into view. Laurent crossed the street while ensuring that the wool hat he wore concealed his blond hair.

Laurent took three even breaths. It was time to focus.

Instead of entering through the front doors, Laurent headed towards the side of the building. True to Nikandros’ words, there was a door with a keypad just above the handle. Slipping on the black leather gloves Laurent kept in his pocket, he punched in the eight-digit code Nikandros provided and swiped the employee-card through the sensor. A small light flashed green and the door slid open. He entered, keeping his head down in case of cameras.

 _You’re on your own after that_ , Nikandros told him. _I_ _couldn’t access their computer network without getting caught so you have to dismantle it from the inside._

From Nikandros’ briefing, Courts & Crowns Inc. was a secret Akielon government intelligence building disguised as a software company. Nikandros was positive the person of interest was held captive at this location, as only a few selected individuals knew of its existence.

Laurent’s mission was to locate the control centre, disable the security system long enough to figure out where Leo – the codename for the captured person – was located, and escape without activating the alarms. He had to be methodological about this rescue. A minimal amount of violence and bloodshed was essential.

Laurent made as little noise as possible as he continued down the long hallway littered with picture frames and other decorations. It seemed redundant to have so many mirrors along the walls and in corners, but it could be useful to ensure he was not being followed. On the contrary, it made it easier for him to be recognized as an intruder. He did not know the layout of this building well, and made sure to memorize the paths he took in case he needed to make a quick exit.  His disguise may help him blend in around the public, but any employer would spot him as an intruder from a mile away.

He pushed open a door at the end of the hallway that revealed a stairwell. Leo could either be near the top floor or in the basement. Before Laurent set foot into the building, he noted that there were about sixty floors. He considered his options. It would be safer to keep a hostage higher up to prevent an escape and make it harder for someone to pinpoint their exact location.

But what would happen if they had to move them at a moment’s notice? It would be challenging and inconvenient to leave without detection. Taking five dozen stairs or using the elevator to escape was ridiculous. The basement was more discreet. An unknown amount of floors below the ground was ideal for concealing information, or a person rather, from others. There could be tunnels and hidden pathways that formed underground networks that would provide adequate escape routes. Assuming this building was more than a headquarters, actual employers of Courts & Crowns Inc. would be oblivious.

Laurent flitted down the stairs, one hand hovering over his knife attached to his waist belt and the other curled into a loose fist, ready to attack or to defend. Laurent could not afford to be taken by surprise where he had a disadvantage.

It was eerily quiet, the air slowly filling with tension as if there was an elastic band Laurent was stretching with every step he took.

The walls, perfectly clean moments ago, were now grimy and ill maintained. The stairs spiralled down until he reached the last step, leading him through a small hallway to a windowless metal door. After checking for cameras, he observed the two components of the lock. One had a sensor on the door that required a pass. The other was on the adjacent wall and stuck out on a slanted angle; the surface was small and in the shape of a finger. This was more complex than the padlocks or household locks he had handled before. The intensity of the security was a sign that he could be closer to Leo.

Nikandros was unable to access Courts & Crowns Inc.’s database and provide Laurent with fingerprints. Perhaps Laurent could try to take apart the fingerprint scanner, but he could activate alarms if the wrong wire was cut. He took one look around the narrow hallway and could tell that there was not much he could use that could act as a screwdriver. The edge of the knife may work as a poor substitute, however, it did not seem likely –

Footsteps.

Laurent crouched underneath the spiral staircase as a figure appeared above him. Laurent let the man take a few steps on solid ground before coming up from behind. As soon as the man pulled out a white card, Laurent snaked a hand underneath the man’s chin and jerked upwards at an angle, snapping his neck, and braced himself to support the deadweight.

Laurent picked up the fallen card and manipulated the man’s finger to press onto the scanner while waving the card in front of the sensor. Once the green light flashed, accompanied by an audible click from the door handle, Laurent opened the door and dragged the body inside with him.

There was a stark contrast between the stairwell and this area. It looked modern, clean cut, filled with various shades of white and black, similar to the main floor of Courts & Crowns. Laurent decided it was safe to remove his coat and placed it neatly on the ground, freeing his mobility. He tucked the tie underneath his shirt and put on the black mask he carried in his pocket.

Three paths diverged from where Laurent stood and he chose one at random, as they all appeared identical. He looked out for hints on the symmetrical grey unnumbered doors along each wall but found nothing noticeable.

The hallway continued straight until it turned to the left. Laurent knelt down and peeked around the corner. A female guard was sitting, her back towards him, appearing to be on her phone. Laurent unsheathed one of the knives from his wrist and crept towards her.

The lighting of the hallway caused his shadow to be casted in front of him, making it difficult for him to attack without being seen. He drew in a long controlled breath and tightened his grip on the weapon. Her death was necessary in order to gain access to the control panel. He had no other choice. _These people work for Akielos_ , he reminded himself. _The people that wanted to kill your brother._ Her death was justified. Before she could yelp in surprise, Laurent leaped over to cover her mouth and nose with his palm. The guard dropped her phone the moment he forced her head back, and he sliced across her throat.

Once she went limp, Laurent patted her down, avoiding areas where her clothes were soaking with blood. He retrieved a string of keys. Just as Laurent was about to leave, he went back to retrieve a grey pass that was in her pant’s pocket. None of the doors had sensors so the pass would not be necessary, but Laurent never knew what could become utile in the future. He hoped it became of good use.

Since the guard was sitting down, Laurent assumed that at least one of the keys unlocked a room nearby. Laurent tried about a dozen doors before finding a key that fit with its respective lock. He turned it, peered inside, and was disappointed that it was a supply closet.

It took Laurent about five rooms to find one that held about three dozen screens that displayed video footage. Below, there was a large surface with various buttons, dials, and levers. A holographic image of the Courts & Crowns Inc. building was lit up in different shades of blue.

He approached the large panel and eyed the many controls. The majority of them had words written above each button, allowing Laurent to deduce their functions without much difficulty. After contemplating several courses of action, he took a seat on the chair. As good as a strategist he was, he hesitated just before he pressed his hands on the control panel. He could not afford to make a mistake and shut the whole system down. _Where has your confidence gone, Laurent? Shouldn’t you be the best?_ He hovered his hands over a few buttons, and began to break down the security system.

The moment Laurent pulled down the last lever, the hologram turned a shade of red and flashed, the word ‘recalibrating’ on top with a countdown timer. He had thirty minutes. Laurent maneuvered the cursor to zoom in on the basement, displaying the layout. One room, however, did not flash red. In fact, it did not even have lights. Odd.

Laurent took one last look before leaving the room.

Laurent dragged the body of the female guard with him as he made his way back to where he left the other man. Perhaps he should have broken her neck and saved him the trouble of dealing with blood. He was too eager. A stupid mistake. It would never happen again. _You have to do better, Laurent. How do you think Auguste would feel if you were a failure?_ Laurent shook his head, banishing the thoughts and his uncle’s voice.

The layout of the basement clear in his mind, Laurent went to another hallway and paused in front of that door. There were no sounds inside. Instead of trying the various keys he had, Laurent opted to pick the lock open. Once it unlocked, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. There in the centre of the room was what Laurent presumed to be Leo, tied to a chair with a bag on his head. And in each corner of the room, guards dressed in the same uniform as the woman from before.

The one farthest away from him whipped out his gun and pointed it at Laurent. “Who the hell are you?”

In response, Laurent pulled out one of his longer knives from his waist and threw it, hitting just above his sternum and between his collarbones. As the guard’s knees buckled, hands frantically trying to pull out the knife, the remaining three also pulled out their guns. Laurent could see through his peripheral vision Leo struggling against his chains, distressed from the commotion.  

Just as gunshots rang out in the small room, Laurent shut the door with his foot and dove forward, rolling into a crouched position. He looked behind him, three dents imbedded in the door where Laurent had just been standing. Not one guard anticipated Laurent’s movement and adjusted their aim to follow him.

Laurent glanced at Leo and was relieved the person was still alive. This told Laurent two things. One, the fact that Leo wasn’t killed the moment he entered proved him to be an asset. Two, these guards must be amateurs.

And that made Laurent’s job much easier.

A guard with a scar across his face threw his gun on the floor and charged. Absolutely stupid. Laurent rose to sidestep and used his forearm to block a punch. His other hand withdrew a small dagger hidden in his breast pocket and imbedded the weapon into the other’s heart. Laurent then grabbed onto the guard’s shoulder and used the momentum to toss him towards the soldier coming from his right side. Both men went tumbling as Laurent repositioned himself to face the only female.

She was holding onto the knife Laurent threw moments before, blood of the dead man fresh on the metal. Obviously unequipped to use this weapon, she waved it back and forth like a bat, snarling. When she raised it into the air, Laurent blocked it and reached into his waistband to retrieve an identical blade. With that hand, he stabbed downwards, ready to finish her, but had it knocked out of his hands. She came at him again, but instead of blocking, he twisted her wrist into a locked position, forcing her to release her hold on the blade. Laurent used his other hand to take the knife and stabbed her in the heart. He did not let go of her wrist until she dropped onto the floor.

Laurent was shoved forwards, tripping on the woman’s body, and did not have time to brace himself for the impact. A sharp intense spike of pain around his left shoulder made him grit his teeth as he rolled over and kicked at the man above him in the groin. He dropped like a stone, buying Laurent enough time to pop the joint back in.

Laurent stood up, rolling his shoulders a few times, before approaching the man crippled on the ground. He picked up a handgun off the floor. With Laurent’s good arm, he heaved the man onto his feet and slammed him against the wall. “For whom do you work for?”

The guard threw back his head and laughed. Laurent cocked the gun and pointed it to his chest, drawing a smug look from the man. “You think threatening me will work? Better think of something more creative.”

Laurent retaliated by punching his face with the side of the gun. The guard groaned as his nose began to bleed, one side of his face red and beginning to bruise. “If you do not cooperate, I will not spare you.” 

False; Laurent would kill him regardless of his cooperation.

The guard flashed Laurent a grin. “Afraid it’s not your decision to make.” He took Laurent’s hand and disarmed him, catching him completely by surprise. He lashed out, aiming for Laurent’s face but Laurent ducked fast enough to miss the punch. Laurent glanced downwards, noting how the man pivoted his foot. With that, Laurent evaded the man’s tackle and maneuvered him onto the floor into a chokehold position.

“Do not move or I will –”

“Kill me?” Laurent could feel the man chuckling as he held him down. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve been very naughty and the Regent will teach you your lesson soon enough.”

Laurent’s blood ran cold. His mask was still in place, how could this guard know his identity?

Instead of reacting, he responded with another question. “What are your plans with the hostage?”

When he did not speak, Laurent tightened his hold, feeling the man squirming underneath him. “We’ve been watching,” He wheezed as Laurent increased the pressure applied on his throat. “We know everything.”

“You know nothing.”

“You were such a good boy,” Laurent flinched, unconsciously relaxing his grip.  The man coughed and whispered, “It’s a shame you grew out of your obedience.”

“ _Enough_.” Laurent wanted to shoot him fifty times, damn discretion. He wanted to rip out the man’s throat – anything to stop Laurent’s skin from crawling.

Laurent never got the chance. The few seconds Laurent lost focus gave the guard enough time to reach into one of his pockets and stab Laurent’s bicep. Gasping in surprise, Laurent let go and the man rolled away. Laurent clutched onto his wound as he watched the guard use the knife and plunged it into his own heart.

The guard smiled at Laurent the whole time, twisting the blade and slumping onto the ground. He sent Laurent a wink before he stilled.

“ _Holy shit_.”

Leo’s chair was tipped sideways, half lying on the ground while still tied to the chair. His mask fell off. Laurent looked at the man and –

Damianos.

Damianos of Akielos.

The man Laurent had dreamed of destroying his whole life. The monster that worked with Laurent’s uncle in an attempt to kill Auguste. Damianos took everything from Laurent – his innocence, his happiness, his older brother – and he was going to pay the price.

“Are you Leo?” said Laurent, keeping his voice steady and his expression stoic. The urge to kill Damianos flooded his veins. He was right there. It would be so easy.

Damianos furrowed his eyebrows, hesitation clouding his eyes. “Yes? I mean–”

Laurent cocked the gun he tucked on his thigh holster and pointed it at Damianos. There was a slight shake to Laurent’s hands. _All you have to do is pull the trigger._ “It was a simple question. I will not ask again.”

“Yes,” Damianos affirmed, slowly. “That’s my codename. How do you know of this? Do you work for Akielos?”

Laurent ignored the question. He would rather choke on his own blood than work for Akielos. “I have come under the direction of Nikandros to retrieve you.”

He knew better than to let emotion override his rational mind. He couldn’t kill Damianos. Not yet. He needed to get him back to Nikandros first. He still needed the evidence to incriminate his uncle.

Damianos widened his eyes. “Nik? He’s still alive?”

“Evidently.” Laurent went behind Damianos and worked on the locks. “I advise we hurry. The security system is almost done recalibrating.”

Focus on the mission.

The chains fell on the floor. Damianos stood up, grabbing a gun from one of the guards, checked the ammunition, and tucked it in his belt. “Thanks.”

“Don’t speak.”

Laurent assessed the situation. Now that he had Leo – or Damianos, rather – Laurent only needed to find a way to discard bodies. But how would he get rid of six adult corpses? He closed his eyes and imagined the layout of the basement.

And then an idea came to mind.

Laurent turned to Damianos. “Take two guards and follow my lead. Do not get blood on the floor.”

Laurent reached down to grab the remaining guards by their clothes, dragging them out of the room. Damianos complied, not uttering a word as they went down the hallway. Once they reached the other two bodies Laurent left in the intersection, he spotted a long silver panel with a handle in a wall. He opened it and the smell of rotting decay filled his nose. Just as Laurent thought: a garbage disposal.

“Place them in here,” Laurent instructed to Damianos as he hoisted the woman he was holding through the opening and let her fall. A few seconds later, they could hear a _thud_ as she landed at the bottom.  

“Are you sure? It’s kind of undignified.”

Laurent glared at him. “They were holding you captive. Would you rather be dead?” _I can help with that_ , Laurent thought and resisted rolling his eyes. There was nothing more tedious than rescuing the man he intended to kill. Especially when he appeared to be having an ethical crisis. “There’s no time for morals.”

When Damianos kept stalling, Laurent took the bodies from him and managed to push them down the flap himself.

“Let’s go,” Laurent said, breathing a little heavier from the exertion. “Quickly.”

They ran up the stairs and carefully retraced Laurent’s steps towards the side entrance. Just before they stepped out onto the streets, Laurent shrugged on his coat and tucked the mask back into his pocket, replacing it with the wool hat. As they walked away from Courts & Crowns Inc., Laurent tensed, wondering if he would hear any alarms or see flashing lights, but there was nothing.

“So,” said Damianos. “What’s your name?”

“None of your concern,” Laurent replied. Because the moment Laurent reunited Damianos with Nikandros and received the intel he required, Laurent would kill them both and continue with his own mission. Nikandros was a fool for believing that Laurent would ever cooperate with him.

Everything was simple. Straightforward.

In hindsight, Laurent should have known that things rarely go as planned.

 

* * *

 

Laurent led Damianos to Nikandros’ safe house, a trailer parked five miles away from a mobile home community in the middle of a state trail. The abundance of weeds and overgrown grass came up to Laurent’s knees and he silently wished for some kind of scythe to clear the way. After a small clearing, Laurent noticed how some of the grass was bent. He looked further into the distance and both of them saw two straight lines created from the weight of tires.

It took a little more searching until they found a nondescript white trailer parked under the shade of some trees. They circled the vehicle, performing a quick area check before approaching.

Laurent knocked a long and particular rhythm Nikandros had shown him before they parted ways.

When no one replied, Laurent knew something was wrong.

“He’s not here?”

“Shut up,” said Laurent and broke the lock.

The whole place was wrecked, counterpointed by the untouched exterior. Glass shards were scattered around the floor and table. A desktop screen was cracked with the metal frame bent in odd angles. Better yet, blood splatters were at the edge of Nikandros’ work desk.

Damianos swore softly under his breath. “Look around,” he said. “Knowing Nikandros, there should be some hidden documents that may be useful.”

Laurent left Damianos at the head of the trailer, scoping out the back and giving each area one systematic swoop.

Laurent pulled open the curtain that separated the kitchen from the bunk beds. Laurent narrowed his eyes at the small bump underneath the crumpled bed sheets. As he reached out to draw back the blanket, Laurent found, nested around some pillows, a makeshift grenade with a red timer on the bed.

Thirty seconds.

“Bomb,” Laurent warned, backing away and finding Damianos scrambling from the other side of the trailer. “Get out!”

There was no time for thinking. Laurent went for a random drawer. He yanked it open and grabbed a handful of paper. The evidence. Where could it be? Twenty seconds. Where was it? What should Laurent take? He couldn’t leave this trailer with nothing.

A hand gripped onto Laurent’s shoulder, pulling him up. “C’mon,” said Damianos, voice strained.

Laurent barely managed to hold onto the stack of papers between his fingers before Damianos all but shoved him out of the door.

They stumbled and landed in a heap on the ground. Damianos jumped up and pulled Laurent towards the trees.

Five seconds.

They ran, the only thing Laurent could hear was the snapping branches beneath their feet and Damianos’ harsh breathing.

Three.

Laurent spotted a patch of tall grass in front of him.

Two.

“Take cover!”

One.

There was no loud explosion; it wasn’t like the movies. The deafening sound of silence drowned all his senses as Laurent flattened himself, pushing his face into the grass. He waited a minute, ten minutes, who knew how many minutes, before he dared to lift his face. A constant buzz replaced the stillness around him, the sound roaring into his eardrum.

Laurent struggled to his knees. The pile of papers Laurent had collected from Nikandros’ trailer was crumpled underneath him. Laurent scrambled to pick them up.

No. No, no, no. _The evidence._

He had to get to the trailer.

Laurent lurched to his feet but lost balance, a wave of dizziness washing over him. He fell back onto the ground and jolted in surprise when a warm black-clad body was lying in front of him.

It was Damianos.

Laurent looked back at the trailer, black smoke rising into the air, twisting and blending in angry clouds. He was half tempted to leave Damianos on the ground, but knew better than to let go of an asset.

“Wake up.” Laurent used the side of his foot to kick and nudge Damianos’ shoulder. He could feel his mouth shaping words, but his voice was so faint, it was like listening to himself trying to speak underwater.

Laurent took a step back when Damianos groaned and rolled over. A quick head to toe assessment proved that Damianos had non-vital injuries, and so, Laurent did nothing about the scratches and blood oozing from his forehead. Besides, Laurent was sure he didn’t look any better.

“I’m fine.” Damianos sounded dazed, but managed to stand. His brown eyes hardened. “We have to leave immediately. I remember another shelter southwest of here. As far as I’m aware, it’s uncompromised.”

“I don’t take orders from the likes of you.”

Damianos barked out a laugh. “You think I enjoy dealing with your bullshit? Trust me, I’m not a fan of you either. But if Nikandros has you involved, then you need me as much as I need you.”

They made eye contact.

“I’m heading southwest,” Damianos repeated. “Are you coming or not?”

Frustration boiled under Laurent’s skin at Damianos’ reasoning. There was no real choice. Laurent pushed past Damianos and headed southwest.

“Don’t slow me down.”

“Likewise, sweetheart.”

Laurent couldn’t wait to kill him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah...let's just say Laurent doesn't end up killing Damen ;)
> 
> Also I hope some of you spotted the small reference to another fic of mine haha, I couldn't resist. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
